Making Up
by Slayergirl
Summary: After a blazing row with Harry, Nikki realises she needs to put things right. One-shot.


**A/N: I own nothing. Well, I suppose I own Mr. Unsuitable, but you can have him if you want. I'd rather have Harry. :)**

Harry glanced curiously at his watch before going to open the door, wondering who was calling. Not Nikki, surely; not after the argument they'd had earlier. In any case, she was out with Mr. Unsuitable (he couldn't be bothered to remember the name), so whoever it was, it wasn't Nikki.

Opening the door, he raised his eyebrows. "Evening."

It was obvious she'd been crying. "Harry, I… about earlier. I said… I said some stupid things, I didn't mean them. I was just lashing out, and it wasn't fair to take it out on you, none of this is your fault, or your problem, or…"

"You could just have called," he pointed out mildly. "You didn't need to come over here to say that."

She bit her lip. "Sorry, I…" she muttered, turning away.

Harry caught hold of her wrist. "I was just wondering what brought you here," he said. "I thought you had a date with…"

"Andrew," she said patiently. "I did. I wanted to talk to you."

He gave her a confused look, then stood aside, motioning her in. "I think you'd better come in."

She shot him a grateful look, and slid past him. "I, um… I brought this with me as well. I drink too much of your wine," she said sheepishly, holding out the bottle to him.

"Wine which is freely offered," he pointed out. "What's wrong, Niks?"

She perched nervously on the sofa, and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I just… I wanted to apologise, that's all. The things I said to you this afternoon were completely uncalled-for. And I… I couldn't settle without saying so."

"And you felt it necessary to come round to tell me that? Rather than call?" He sighed. "What's really wrong, Nikki?"

"That _is_ what's really wrong," she muttered. "At least…"

"Ah, now we get to it."

She looked up at him, and relaxed slightly as she saw the humour in his eyes that belied the look on his face. "I _am_ sorry," she said softly. "I was… I was having a bad day, and I took it out on you. What you said just touched a nerve, I know you didn't mean it like that, and I knew it at the time, but… with… what happened this morning, I just flipped. I'm not trying to make excuses, I just… wanted you to know why I was acting like that."

He sat next to her, and wrapped his arm round her. "Nikki, your apology was accepted before you even opened your mouth. You don't have to explain. Not unless you want to. Anyway, what happened to your date?"

She shrugged. "Cancelled it. I told Andrew that something had come up. Which is sort of true," she said, with a ghost of a smile. "It's my own fault, this whole thing; I was trying to deal with it all myself, instead of going running to you like I usually do…"

"Dealing with what?" he asked with a frown.

She gave a sniff. "It's my dad. As always."

"Oh…" Realisation dawned on him; he'd made some crack about happy families – not related to her at all, but to the case they were working on, which, he now saw with startling clarity, did, in fact, bear a certain resemblance to her own family. No wonder she'd lashed out at him. He'd probably have done the same. "Look, what I said was… well, a bit thoughtless and insensitive. I wasn't thinking straight – blame the early morning and the lack of coffee," he said.

She shrugged. "I shouldn't have…"

"Okay, let's forget the shoulds and shouldn'ts," he said with a smile. "It happened, we're both sorry, let's forget about it, and deal with the real issue, hmm?"

She gave him a rueful smile, and snuggled up to him. "I just… realised when I went home, I had no-one else to talk to about this, and… God, it was horrible…"

"Leo? Andrew?"

She shook her head. "No. Not about this."

He couldn't help but feel a little satisfied that he was top of her list of people to talk to and run to when she had a problem. "And what is 'this' that your dad's done now?"

"Oh, the usual, asking for money," she said, then added in a tiny voice, "with menaces."

"With… what kind of menaces?"

"It's… just stupid little things. It's not like he's threatening to hurt me, exactly, it's not as if it's anything you'd even take to the police, it's just… I don't know, I… I don't know what to do. I mean, if I give him the money he'll only come crawling back next time he needs money, but if I don't…"

"What's he threatened, exactly?"

She shrugged. "Like I said, stupid little things, things I shouldn't even care about. Like… disowning me; why would I care? I've often wished I could disown _him_, after all. It's more… it's emotional blackmail, that's all it is."

"But it's clearly upset you."

"Well, what kind of a person sends that kind of message to their daughter?" she asked, flipping open her phone.

He scowled. "Tell your father _I'm_ the only person allowed to call you a tart. And only because _I _don't mean it." She laughed, and he grinned at her, having known it would make her laugh. "Anything else?"

"Other messages like that. You know, calling me a slut who'd rather be spending time with her boyfriend than helping out her poor ailing father…"

"Or crying on your best friend's shoulder." He opened the bottle of wine she'd brought, and handed her a glass. "Come on, drink up."

She took the glass gratefully, and sipped slowly. "Why do I even care?" she asked bitterly. "I can't stand him…"

"He's still your family, still flesh and blood," he replied. "Even Leo, however much you love him, is only a surrogate father."

She glanced up, and smiled. "Leo's everything I could possibly wish for in a father."

He nodded. "I know," he said softly.

She twisted round to look up at him more easily. "You too?"

He had a mouthful of wine before answering. "Yes, me too."

She nestled back down, calmness returning to her as Harry sat with her. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For making it all better again."

"Isn't that what friends are for?" he said, with a touch of humour.

"I know but… after the things I said…"

"Niks, you were angry and upset," he soothed.

"No, I mean… I… the way… you stormed off, I wondered if… if…" she sobbed suddenly. "Why would you even still want to be friends with someone who…"

"Sh…" he murmured, hugging her tightly. "Niks, just because we had an argument doesn't mean we're not still friends. I just means that we had an argument. It happens, particularly with two stubborn people with tempers."

"I know, but… it just… it was so horrible, getting home, and having no-one I could talk to, and thinking you wouldn't want to talk to me, and… the whole thing just upset me so much, and… and I had to just…"

"Hey, hey…" he said, as she got herself more and more worked up. "Why these tears?" He wiped them away, and kissed the top of her head. "I'm not going to stop being friends with you because we argue. If I was, we wouldn't still be friends now – we spend half our time arguing! We just both needed a bit of time to calm down." He hugged her closer. "One or other of us would have grovelled tomorrow, if you hadn't come over this evening. One of us always does."

She chuckled, wiping her eyes. "Usually you."

"Yes, funny, that. I wonder why it's always me that ends up apologising," he mused, eyes dancing. "Maybe because you're such a stubborn tart," he teased.

"Probably," she smiled. "Have I grovelled enough?"

"No, nowhere near enough," he told her, smiling as she laughed, cuddling even closer to him. They fell silent for a while. "You do realise, don't you, that if Andrew finds out you came round here instead of going out with him, he'll think you're two-timing him?"

She shrugged. "I… this was more important. Not dad, not really. I know that's what upset me initially, but it was… after arguing with you, and feeling so alone that I realised… just…" she took a deep breath, "just how important it is to me, knowing you're there. How much I rely on you." She pulled a face. "Scared me a bit."

"And you were scared I'd leave you, just like everyone else does?" he said softly.

Her face crumpled, and she nodded as he pulled her onto his lap, cocooning her in his arms. "Oh, Nikki…" he said, part exasperated and part amused, "you really are an idiot, you know that? We're friends, Niks, and nothing's going to change that. I'm not going anywhere."

She gave him a watery smile. "Promise?"

He rolled his eyes. "Promise."

There was a long silence. "You didn't like Andrew, did you?"

"I only met him briefly."

"I could tell you didn't like him." She looked up at him, puzzled. "You _never_ like my boyfriends."

"Well, usually with reason," he justified quickly. "Look who always ends up hurt and crying on my shoulder?"

"But you can't know that they'd mess me around. Can you?"

"It's a male thing, we can tell who's a bastard," he said smoothly. "I think it's an in-built bastard-radar."

"Does that mean you want to vet all my boyfriends, then?" she joked.

He bit back the suggestion that he'd rather _be_ her boyfriend, and instead said lightly, "Well, I'd make a better fist of choosing a boyfriend for you that you'd choose yourself, that's for sure. No racist Ryans, no shady Antons, no awful Andrews…"

"He's not awful," she protested.

"Only because he hasn't hurt you _yet_."

"Why is it you really don't like him?"

"Just… something shifty about him."

She sighed. "When I said I cancelled the date…"

He swallowed, wondering if she was going to say she was still thinking of calling him and meeting up with him, now she'd sorted things out, and gritted his teeth.

"I…" she shrugged. "I finished with him," she said finally. "He… kept on texting his ex. He said there was nothing in it, but… well, I…"

"Didn't feel like putting up with it?" he asked softly.

She shook her head. "Not really, no."

"Smart move. You're learning."

She looked down, smiling. "Thanks, Harry."

"Any time. Anyway, now you're here…"

"Mm?" She perked up as he refilled her wineglass, wondering what he had in mind.

"I haven't eaten yet. Can't be bothered to cook. Can't be bothered to go out. Takeaway?"

"Chinese?"

"Absolutely."

As he put down the phone after ordering, he was surprised when Nikki pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

At his enquiring look, she just smiled. "Well, they say kiss and make up," she said.

He nodded. "They do," he murmured, placing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Always thought that was a good idea."

He smiled down at her, and pulled her back into his arms.


End file.
